


Ceremonious

by swallowed_stars



Series: Sheith Family Series [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Endless fluff as per usual, Kid Fic, M/M, This fic is so saccharine it can be used as an alternative to granulated sugar in several recipes, birthday fic, domestic fic, family fic, happy birthday shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 09:26:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13831278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swallowed_stars/pseuds/swallowed_stars
Summary: They have the perfect birthday party setup: family, cake, decorations. Now Keith just needs to figure out how to pop a certain question.





	Ceremonious

Keith is poised to ask once they’re all digging into their respective slices of birthday cake. The air is generally quiet save for the baby cooing as Shiro feeds her, Shiro’s mother and twin are present, and everyone’s already celebrating anyhow; this would be an excellent time. All Keith needs to do is assemble the right words, to put a label on what it is he’s been mulling over recently.

 

Regrettably, Haru beats him to the punch, addressing everyone first: “Do you guys like it? I’ve never done red velvet before.”

 

“The two bites I got to have were excellent,” Ryou quips, playfully smirking down at Kira, who managed to scarf down her piece and is currently digging her fork into her uncle’s helping. Kira responds in kind by offering a false, innocent smile across her red-stained lips.

 

“Kira,” Shiro chides, “let your uncle eat.”

 

Kira frowns and relents her assault on Ryou’s slice of cake, though it’s now become little more than a red and white husk. In turn, Ryou makes eye contact with his brother and shakes his head, mouthing that he doesn’t mind whatever his niece does. Shiro looks at him skeptically, but he shrugs it off and returns to feeding Yumi small bites of his own portion.

 

“Yumi and I both like it, Haru.” Shiro says pleasantly, chuckling as the now one year-old in question taps at his metal arm and utters a small squeak of “Baba” in insistence of another bit of cake. She’s more than capable of feeding herself, but Shiro’s aware that most of the cake would end up on her face rather than in her mouth if given the opportunity.

 

“It’s perfect, baby,” says Hana with a smile.

 

“Dad? Are you okay?” Haru says gently to Keith, who starts to blush when every pair of eyes in the room moves to him.

 

Keith twists the fork in his hand before cutting a straight line through the core of his untouched dessert. He says quickly: “Mhm, yeah. Sorry, I kind of spaced out there.”

 

This is a sufficient enough excuse to draw everyone’s focus back to eating, which Keith is extremely grateful for. As he places a small forkful of cake into his mouth, he overhears the conversation pick back up:

 

“Whose idea was it for a red cake? It’s pretty!” Kira says.   

 

“It was my suggestion,” Shiro says. He makes a point to slip a coaxing look in Keith’s direction as he adds: “Red’s been my favorite color for awhile now.”

 

Keith mentally stumbles over the handsome grin that’s flashing at him. He’s suspended between loathing Shiro for acting so coy and being helplessly in love with him all the same, though this isn’t a new discovery for Keith by any means. There is, however, one distinct thought that occurs to him while he stares in flustered awe at Shiro: he can’t do this.

 

\----

 

_“I can’t do this,” Keith sighs to himself. He’s pacing around Haru’s room, meanwhile Haru’s kicking his legs over the side of his bed and blinking at his dad._

 

_“You can’t ask Papa to marry you?” Haru says._

 

_Haru stating it so plainly only makes Keith feel worse. It should be the easiest thing in the world, but Keith can’t placate that tightening feeling in his gut whenever he thinks of asking Shiro to get their vows renewed._

 

_“It’s just...too hard. People spend years trying to think of how to ask this.” Keith grumbles, rubbing at his temples._

 

_“But you and Papa are already married...I don’t think he’d say no.”_

 

_Keith drags his hands down his face. He mutters: “You’re right; I’m being ridiculous. Besides, you’re my son. I shouldn’t be dragging you into this.”_

 

_“You’re gonna be dragging me into it anyway when there’s a new wedding.” Haru adds. He pats an empty spot on the bed next to him, prompting Keith to sit down._

 

_Keith hooks an arm across his son’s shoulders and brings him in close. Haru then giggles, closing his eyes and scrunching his nose up. He’s inherited that little eccentricity from Shiro, along with countless other things. There are a few streaks in Haru where Keith’s genes present themselves: the cowlick at the very back of Haru’s head, his lean torso, the miniscule stab of violet in his dark eyes. Otherwise, he’s all Shiro. Keith’s come to appreciate this fact about his children: they’re each, in their individual way, a mashup of their two fathers._

 

_“I want to thank you,” Keith says softly, brushing a hair out of his son’s eyes._

 

_“What for?”_

 

_“For making me brave.” Keith admits. He doesn’t speak of it often, but he’s always been worried for Haru. He was the one they raised for several years in space, the one that had no record of existence once they were back on Earth, the one that they had to assimilate into two very different lifestyles at a young age. Keith wanted to be a strong and good parent to his son from the start, but he’s always held a quiet fear that he wasn’t enough for him. Fortunately, Haru’s an easygoing kid, and he’s helped shape Keith into a better version of himself; there’s no questioning that._

 

_“That’s all you need, then.” Haru says._

 

_“Hm?”_

 

_Haru wriggles out of Keith’s hold and elaborates: “Just be brave and ask Papa. It’ll be okay.”_

 

_Keith softens; of course their son has Shiro’s good sense as well. He says: “I’ll do my best.”_

 

_“And if you can’t do it,” Haru offers, “I’ll ask for you!”_

 

_Keith laughs and shakes his head, but he can’t deny the irony in the offer. After all, Haru was the leverage during the first proposal…_

 

_\----_

 

Keith places Yumi into her crib with some difficulty, as her tiny hands are coiled around the folds of his shirt. When he’s able to finally detach her, he lowers her carefully, covering her up with a blanket that’s bedecked with purple stars. He waits to see if she’s going to fuss or wake up from the lack of contact, but she’s unperturbed in her rest, her little chest bobbing up and down. Keith brushes her cheek with his knuckle, whispering to her:

 

“Happy Birthday, Yumi. Goodnight.”

 

He then closes the door to her room quietly, walking as daintily on his feet as he can manage. Some nights, all it takes is one creaking step…

 

Keith assumes he’s in the clear once he reaches the staircase, heaving a sigh of relief. Once he’s halfway down, his ears prick up at the sound of the kitchen faucet running, the hollow chimes of dishes being stacked together. It ushers in a new wave of anxiety in Keith; the night’s all but escaped him and he still hasn’t found a way to ask Shiro.

 

When he approaches the kitchen, Keith’s clenching and unclenching his hands, both ready to reach out and intercept his husband and ready to abandon the effort entirely. He reminds himself that Shiro would do it for him--Shiro _has_ done it for him--and he deserves to know what’s on Keith’s mind regardless.

 

Shiro’s standing at the sink completely preoccupied, placing dishes into the drying rack as he cleans them, unaware that his husband is lurking behind. Keith opens his mouth to say it, willing himself to just get it over with, but not a single word creeps out. Instead, Keith moves forward helplessly, circling his arms around Shiro’s waist and resting his head against the buttons of Shiro’s spine. Shiro inhales sharply, but he just as soon melts into Keith touch, exhaling in contentment.

 

“Hey,” Shiro breathes.

 

“Did your mom and Ryou leave?” Keith says, lifting his head up after depositing a kiss to Shiro’s back.

 

“Yeah, they slipped out while you were putting the baby down. Mom’s been kinda tired lately and Ryou’s on call this whole week.” Shiro explains, flicking excess droplets of water off of his hands and into the sink. Keith merely hums in recognition, releasing his hold on Shiro so that he can dry off his hands.

 

“She go to sleep okay?” Shiro asks, turning to face Keith properly.

 

“Yeah,” Keith says, “she’s really perfected her little koala routine. I couldn’t get her to let go.”

 

Shiro laughs, a hand clasped over his heart as though he can’t repress the absolute joy that the thought brings to him, and Keith can feel his determination slipping further and further away; this is the one and only instance in which he regrets marrying the man of his dreams.

 

“It’s too bad our kids aren’t the most adorable kids in the whole world.” Shiro jests.

 

“We gave it three honest tries.” Keith adds, folding his arms across his chest. Shiro bows down just enough to kiss Keith’s forehead, earning him a meager smile from Keith. Shiro didn’t shave this morning, as per Keith’s request, and as the light stubble scratches against Keith’s skin, Keith loses himself in a fantasy of that same sensation digging between his thighs.

 

“You’re awful quiet.” Shiro remarks finally, and Keith is somehow able convince himself to say it. He sucks in a deep breath and begins:

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you a proper birthday gift.”

 

Shiro scoffs and says: “Keith, a year ago today, you handed me a beautiful, healthy baby girl. Nothing you could fit in a box is ever gonna compare to that.”

 

Keith makes a face, scrunching up his features like Shiro’s words are difficult for him to digest, so Shiro tacks more onto his argument:

 

“Besides, I’m getting old now, so birthdays are a lot different. There’s always that hiccup in your mid-thirties when someone asks you how old you are, you go to answer, and you realize you’ve forgotten momentarily. Our daughter Kira? She can tell you how old she is down to the hour. But as for me, I’d rather not think about it. I’m well past mid-thirties.”

 

“You’re not old,” Keith counters, a look of scandal written across his features.

 

Shiro cocks an eyebrow and runs his Galran hand through his snowy forelock. He says: “Well, lucky for me, I started going white early. Learned to get accustomed to it.”

 

“Shiroooo,” Keith groans.

 

“What?”

 

Keith sidles forward, bringing his husband into a comforting embrace, the tip of Keith’s head lolling against the crook of Shiro’s collarbone. Shiro’s taken aback by the action, but he reciprocates fondly, resting his cheek against Keith’s soft black hair.

 

“I love you, okay? And I want your birthday to be special.” Keith says.

 

“It _is_ special, Keith. I share it with our little girl. Well, okay, it’s during non-leap years, but that’s most of the time anyway.” Shiro says, running a hand through Keith’s hair soothingly.

 

“I want to make it more special.” Keith mumbles, his eyes drifting to the floor. There’s no perfect segue to this, but it’s all he’s got. He shakes off Shiro’s hold on him, creating a bit of distance so that he can look Shiro in the eye. He then takes both of Shiro’s hands in his own, Shiro’s eyes having rounded with anticipation.

 

“Is something happening that I don’t know about?” Shiro asks, glancing around the kitchen apprehensively.

 

“Shiro,” Keith says with as much gravitas as he can muster, “I want you to marry me.”

 

“Done,” Shiro says with no hesitation, a giggle in his tone.

 

“I’m serious.” Keith says, tightening his grip on Shiro’s hands. He continues: “When you and I came back here to Earth, we’d already been married in space. We had that quiet ceremony with the Olkari.”

 

“I remember.” Shiro says lightly.

 

“...And we just called ourselves husbands. We filled out paperwork stating we got married, we registered Haru’s birth, eventually we bought rings. But that’s it.”

 

“Uh huh…”

 

“I want _more_ than that, Shiro. I want…” Keith halts mid-thought, fearing that maybe this sounds like a dumb idea after all. He’s only spurred back into action when he sees the panic lurking in Shiro’s face, the expectation of something bad, the twisting of the knife. It saddens Keith to know that such reactions still exist within him, but Keith can only assume it’s another byproduct of Shiro’s mental strife.

 

Keith exhales quietly, giving his husband the kind of warm smile that he deserves. Love has always been a thief in Keith’s experience; every time he thinks he’s getting a proper grip on it, it knocks the wind out of him completely. Maybe he’ll never get the hang of it, but for the sake of Shiro, he’s willing to keep getting back up.

 

“I want to get married again. Here, on Earth. I want your family to be there, and our friends, our kids…” Keith declares, his hands trembling as he tries to keep them locked around Shiro’s. Shiro, in the meantime, has let his mouth fall open, his eyes gone dewy.

 

“Keith,” Shiro whispers, his voice thick.

 

“I’m so happy. And I’m so proud to be a part of this family. I mean, if I could go back to that orphanage and tell the kid who always took the corner cot that he’d live happily ever after…” Keith’s mouth becomes a taut line. He closes his eyes, wincing from the memory. Sometime between all this, Shiro inches forward and rests his forehead against Keith’s, silencing all the discord that arose in that small gap of time.

 

“I’m sorry,” Keith says, and Shiro places a metal finger against his lips.

 

“Don’t do that; it’s okay.” Shiro says, letting his finger fall to the wayside. Keith nods, his bangs intermixing with Shiro’s forelock.

 

“I want to share this with your family--with _our_ family. I love you and-” Keith is stopped yet again as Shiro’s lips crash against his. It seems Shiro couldn’t help himself any longer.

 

Shiro’s hands come to cradle Keith’s face, cupping it at his jawline. When they part, there’s a small hitch in Shiro’s breath, and he looks back at Keith with tearfully-glossed eyes.

 

“Yes,” Shiro says.

 

“Yeah?” Keith says, hope tweaking his voice just the least bit higher.

 

“Yes,” Shiro repeats, “yes, yes, yes.” There’s an additional kiss for every affirmation: one that he presses to Keith’s lips, one at the tip of his nose, one on either cheek. Keith shudders, laughing in embarrassment, though he does nothing to discourage the onslaught.

 

“We’ll have to start planning,” Keith says.

 

“Get something nice for the kids to wear.” Shiro adds.

 

“My own kids getting to be in my wedding…” Keith says dreamily, almost to himself.

 

“Don’t get too excited; you know my mom’s gonna try to meddle somehow.” Shiro says. The two of them erupt into a fit of laughter, both contemplating everything they’ll have to accomplish in the coming months between finding a date, informing their friends, finding the right outfits...

 

When the laughter dies down, they grow quiet, staring into one another’s eyes until Shiro speaks up:

 

“Sometimes I can’t even believe I got you to marry me in the first place.” He says with a shake of his head.

 

Keith clicks his tongue, rocking forward onto his tiptoes so that he can meet Shiro’s height. In a gruff voice, he says: “Do you need some convincing?”

 

“Hmm, maybe.” Shiro answers as Keith traces his fingers across Shiro’s stubbled jaw, his eyes dilating lustfully. Keith initiates the kiss this time, Shiro urging their bodies together by curling his arms around Keith’s lithe waist. His hands wander to Keith’s lower back, but he can do better, he can dip them down just a bit further until he’s clutching--

 

A shrill cry of “Eww!” startles the two of them, and when Shiro and Keith split apart, they see their oldest daughter standing in the doorway, her face contorted in disgust. Keith clears his throat in sheer humiliation, unable to think of anything he can say for himself. Shiro, on the other hand, attempts to talk his way around their little scene:

 

“Kira, sweetheart, what are you doing?”

 

“Looking for your birthday.” Kira says plainly, to which Shiro and Keith exchange a look of confusion.

 

“What?” Keith says.

 

Kira’s now taken to getting on her hands and knees, tilting her head so that she can inspect the area beneath the refrigerator. She explains: “Haru told me about Papa’s birthday--his _real_ birthday. He says the day gets lost sometimes, that it’s not always there every year. I’m trying to find it.”

 

Both Shiro and Keith then snicker to themselves. Keith makes to tell Kira to abandon her pursuit when a tiny wail drifts down into the kitchen, sounding from upstairs.

 

Kira pokes her head back up and hops to her feet. Realizing that her shouting was likely the cause of waking her sister up, she turns on her heels and sprints back toward the staircase, calling out: “I’ll go get her, you keep kissing.”

 

Shiro shrugs his shoulders, jokingly saying: “Well, she _did_ give us the O.K.”

 

Keith grabs his husband by the hand and tugs him in the same direction Kira just fled in.

 

“Come on,” Keith says, “we can’t abandon the birthday girl.”

 

“I’d never dream of it,” Shiro says as they round the stairs.

 

By the time they’ve reached the top step, Keith swivels around and strums two fingers down the length of Shiro’s chest, saying in a hushed voice:

 

“I haven’t forgotten about the birthday boy, either. You still have one last thing to unwrap when we’re alone.”

 

“Birthday boy’s getting old now,” Shiro says, his eyebrows raised, “I might throw out my back.”

 

“I sure hope so.” Keith retorts, adding a tad more flair in his step as he leaves an awestruck and reddening Shiro in his wake.

**Author's Note:**

> "We've had one marriage, yes, but what about second marriage?"


End file.
